Building a Nest
by TheMadKatter13
Summary: [MerKat RPs series 12] STICKING THE LANDING SEQUEL Graduation is a special day, a day for celebration. And celebration means a night without the fledglings and as much sex as they can manage. Winglock, top and bottom!alpha!Sherlock / bottom and top!omega!John


**We were asked for a fluffy sequel to Sticking the Landing and we sorta gotta some in before and after the smut. #wetried**

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John adjusted his tie in the mirror for the fifth time. He smiled at the reflection. "I see you, Hamish." The little boy came out from where he'd been peeking, wings fluttering a bit nervously as he came to his Da. John smoothed his feathers and picked up his son. "Come on, I think we're ready to go." Today was his graduation day.

Graduations were boring, but as this was _John's_ graduation, he supposed he'd make an exception. He came up behind his mate, wrapping his arms around his mate and son to undo the poorly-knotted tie. A heavy weight landed on his head and he narrowed his eyes at his daughter in the mirror. "Stay still, Harriet," he scolded as his oldest balanced precariously in his curls, wings popped to keep the five-year-old balanced. He ignored the way she doubled over to wrap her fingers in his hair, pulling on the strands like they were reigns in her unending quest to be the highest point in the room. Skillfully, he redid John's tie into a meticulous Eldredge knot before pressing a kiss to the two golden heads in front of him. "Mycroft sent a car," he informed in a low murmur against his mate's ear.

Smiling, John set Hamish down and reached up to pluck Harriet from her perch. "What have I told you about climbing your Dad?"

She snuggled adorably against him. "Don't?" she said innocently.

John shook his head and put her down. "Right. Don't." He took both the kids' hands and kissed Sherlock. "Let's go."

The kids were fairly well-behaved all the way to the graduation, sitting still in the nice clothing John had wrangled them into. They sat demurely in their laps, eyeing the world outside. It wasn't until they disembarked from the car and his mate pressed a kiss to his lips before departing with sparkling eyes and flushed cheeks that they began to act up. Sherlock was fairly tempted to just nick a necktie off two of the other guests and tie his children down like one might tether a blimp. If he hadn't already been reprimanded quite heartily by his omega for doing that exact same thing when John had been off at Tesco's the month before, he would have. So, instead, he took a seat on the outer aisle, encircled one hand around one of each fledgling's ankle, and let them flutter about his head. They were young to have begun flying already, but both John and him were pleased and encouraged it whenever they could.

Hamish got tired first and settled into his Dad's lap, watching the crowd. "Aunt Harry!" Harriet squealed and broke free to land in her aunt's arms. The alpha had cleaned up and moved near Sherlock and John and was a big help with the kids. And Harriet especially couldn't get enough of her aunt. She smiled and took a seat next to Sherlock.

Hamish waved at her with a wing. "Hi, Aunt Harry."

"Heya, squirt," she greeted back with an accompanied hair ruffle that had her nephew frowning a perfect imitation of his dad's glare. She grinned at him and settled her niece more comfortably in her lap, stretching out the black-tipped gold wings and preening them, massaging the tender muscles. At her side, Sherlock scowled at her, but proceeded to do the same with quiet little Hamish's wings. As the crowd around them grew and bustled, Harry hummed gently in their quiet little bubble and waited for the crowd to settle.

John had a while to wait. Hardship of a 'W' last name. But he knew Sherlock could handle the kids and Harry might be coming. He was glad for the relationship he'd built with her over the last couple years. He was glad for everything. It hadn't been easy, but he wouldn't give up a moment with the kids or Sherlock. Finally it came his turn to get his diploma.

"Watson!" At the call of his mate's surname, the audience began politely clapping and then a broadly-grinning John was striding across the stage. As soon as he appeared, their fledglings went wild.

"DADDY!"

"YAY! DADDY!"

Sherlock, always one for dramatics, wouldn't have terribly minded his children's antics, if not for the fact that sometimes, he still felt like he needed to prove to his mate that he could care for their offspring as well as his omega could. He knew it was silly. He knew that John was confident that he was a good father. But it was those instincts he couldn't quell that drove him still at times. Both Hamish and Harriet had popped into the air, fluttering about excitedly and he stood, wrapping a hand once again around each of their ankles, and tugged, ignoring their surprised shrieks and anchoring them in his lap with a hand firmly gripping the joint of each wing.

"Aw, my poor little hellions," Harry snickered at his side. He ignored her too and kept his eyes fixed on John.

John hadn't missed the movement. That was his family. He flashed them a smile and quickly made his way off stage. At least there weren't too many after him and he was allowed to go join his family.

Harriet broke free and flew to him first. John caught her and hugged her, then Hamish, before hugging his sister and kissing Sherlock. He couldn't stop grinning.

"I'm proud of you," Sherlock murmured into his mate's ear, sliding a slow hand across his belly and around to cup his hip, resisting the urge to curl his family in his wings. "I told you we could do it."

"Oi!" Harry shouted, smaking her brother's mate in the shoulder and making him startle back. "None of that! Wait until I at least take the kids!" she groused, relieving her little brother of his children. Large black wings (Christ, those wings were larger than the bloody man was tall) rustled discontentedly and she rustled hers mockingly back at him, grinning at the glare she received.

John chuckled. "Let's get lunch then you can take the kids. Do you want to go with your Aunt Harry?" Hamish reached for Sherlock.

"Yes, please, da," their younger said as Sherlock hoisted him up to his shoulders to cling to his neck. In a quick second, he was blinded by a burst of black-tipped gold feathers when they wrapped around his face, along with a pair of arms wrapping around his forehead. Suffice to say, Harriet had perfected her balance before her brother, and he heard a muffled snort from his mate at the supposedly amusing sight of their son trying to keep his place. Sherlock crossed his arms and pouted.

"Hamish, he can't see." John gently peeled back his son's wings. "Even if you fall, which you won't, you've got wings you know."

"Yes, da," his son replied obediently, though he curled chubby fingers in Sherlock's hair in the absence of his wings as a secondary grounder as the group began to walk. John had already informed him beforehand that he'd made reservations at a nearby restaurant and he wanted to walk there after the ceremony. Hamish stuck to his head and his mate smiled up at him before threading their fingers together as they set off. As they walked, he kept a careful eye on his daughter and her namesake as the fledgling played a short-range tag with her aunt, his little girl giggling as she darted up and down to escape Harry's reaching fingers.

The restaurant was close by the campus and it was busy with graduates and their families. The waiter sniffed a bit at the children, but led them to a booth in the back. Harriet started bouncing a little too much, but she settled down with a glare from John. The waiter came back after a few minutes with a bottle of wine. "This was ordered for you," he said.

_Mycroft_. "Thank you," said John before Sherlock could object.

The detective sniffed a bit at the gift, but accepted the full glass when his mate handed it to him. Dinner was, thankfully, a fairly quiet affair. Harry and John conversed quietly while keeping an absent mind on the fledglings who were slowly growing more and more impatient with an afternoon requiring such stillness of them. Sherlock stayed silently, keeping an alpha's wary, watchful eye over the diner and its occupants. He did not eat except for when his mate pressed a forkful of food against his lips and he consumed it with a glare, but consume it he did.

John was used to Sherlock's wariness by now. They were going to spend the night together, leaving the twins in Harry's capable hands. He really was grateful for her and told her so. She waved it off of course, but then she was wrangling the kids into the cab to take them to her flat. And finally they were alone. John leaned up and kissed his mate gently.

His hunger for his mate, simmering as it had been all day, flared up at the gentle press of lips to his jaw and he wrapped his arms around his omega, drawing him against his chest. He bent his head low, pressing his fingers to the curved shell of an ear. "Put on my coat," he growled.

John raised an eyebrow, but he followed the command. Of course he was nearly swallowed up in it, and no doubt looked ridiculous. He fluttered his wings a big, settling the coat around them. "Okay, now what?"

"Now, we fly home," Sherlock replied innocently, curling his fingers under his mate's thighs and hoisting them up until his omega got the point and wrapped his legs about his waist. His coat draped near to the ground, giving the perfect amount of cover. His wings spread wide and they were rising up, John clinging to him like their first time, like their mating dance. One which he planned on recreating. It wasn't until they were high in the sky that he moved his fingers to the button of his mate's trousers, grinning slyly as he slid down the zipper.

John gasped. He clung a little tighter to Sherlock, wings batting in time with his mates. He moaned as Sherlock wrapped a hand around his length. "This isn't home, love." He was growing wet under the touches.

"We weren't home the first time we mated," he reminded as he stroked his mate's cock to full hardness, using his other hand to first shove down his mate's trousers as far as they would go and then press two fingers into his omega's slick. He pumped both his hands in equal pace, loving the feeling of slick sliding down his fingers to his palm. "Open my trousers, John," he commanded in a low rumble, the pain of being trapped behind his zipper when his mate was so wet and so close growing nearly too much to bear.

John trusted his lover completely. With panting breath he freed the alpha and moved up a bit so he was poised against him. He leaned in to scent him, feeling the thrill of danger and the warmth of his familiar mate. "You've been planning this for a while, haven't you?"

"Maybe," Sherlock replied as his cock was engulfed by the slick, hot heat of his mate. "Jooohhhnnn," he moaned, dropping his head and nipping at his bondbite. He had to restrain himself from actually entering the mating dance because as much as he wanted to mate his omega in-flight, mating dances themselves were only allowed in certain areas and he would not have John's graduation night ruined by being cast into a cell until Mycroft could get them out. So instead, he kept his path to their nest true as he thrust in and out of his mate, feeling his growing knot catching on the tight rim with each smooth glide in.

"God, Sherlock," moaned John. "You're going to knot me before we even get home." It was warm under the coat, but he knew Sherlock was trying to protect him. "I'm yours. Always." He angled his head to give Sherlock more room and shifted a bit to give his mate more space to work.

"Yes, I am. And yes, you are. As I am yours," he replied, wrapping his arms firmly around his mate, sliding his hands under wing joints and up to shoulders, all the easier to pull his omega onto his cock with. Baker Street was nearly in sight when his orgasm swooped up his spine and he bit down into his bondbite to muffle himself as he pierced his omega with his cock. As much as he despised repetition, he could never get tired of the feeling of his knot filling John full to bursting, could never tire of that hot heat clenching around him as his mate's cock pulsed its release untouched between them.

John moaned, helping keep them up and guiding them to land on the roof. He laughed and sprawled on top of his lover as Sherlock went onto his back, wings spreading out to slow his descent. Those beautiful big black wings. John leaned down to kiss him again, running his hands through the tangle of his curls.

They spent the next half hour waiting for his knot to go down simply kissing, enjoying the feel of each other's skin and hands, holding, caressing. All the while, Sherlock's coat and John's wings kept what they were doing hidden, even if anyone flying above could know with a look or a sniff exactly what they were doing. "I love you," the alpha murmured as he threaded his fingers through his mate's feathers, preening the golden pinions that their fledglings took after most.

"I love you too. I love this life we've built." John smoothed a feather. "Let's go inside. This evening isn't over yet." He kissed his mate again, reluctant to move. But now that Sherlock had got his alpha out for the moment, John wanted to take his turn dominating.

There was a look in his mate's eyes that had him shivering and his cock twitching and he licked his lips, giving a short, eager nod. His knot had gone down and he was on his feet in seconds, John held close to his chest. It was quick work to drop down to the hidden back stair and walk inside, his omega cradled to his chest as they engaged in a near-violent battle of dominance via tongue, lips, and teeth.

John shed their clothes and pushed Sherlock back on the bed. He grabbed a tube of lube and tossed it to him. "I want to watch you prepare yourself." He rarely wanted to top the alpha, but this was one of those times. It was payback for how needy he could be. John arched his wings and licked his lips.

Another shudder shot down his spine as he licked his own lips. Some may call it 'depraved', 'filthy', that he would let his omega mount him. Perhaps it was. Sherlock _loved_ it. The only reason it didn't happen often was because he usually needed to calm his alpha instincts, and letting John top him in those times would be counter-productive, at best. Eagerly, he squirted perhaps more lubricant than necessary into his palm, and pressed his first finger inside. The alpha arched his back and his wings draped back and off the bed, the submissive position still feeling odd, even as arousal spread from the smooth pumping of his own finger. He was panting by the time he felt he could insert a second without too much pain, and John was standing at the side of the bed, licking his lips and slowly stroking his cock, wings raised in the dominant way Sherlock's normally were. "It feels better when you do it," the alpha panted, spreading his legs and raising his hips enticingly.

"Does it now?" John crawled between his legs. He leaned down to suck the head of the alpha's cock, listening to him keen. He couldn't fit much of it in his mouth, but it was enough and he replaced Sherlock's fingers with his own thicker ones. Looking down his mate's body, he could see the way he arched against him. His own cock wasn't nearly so big or thick, but he knew how much Sherlock loved it. Pulling off his cock, John added a third finger, pumping slowly, teasing him as he stretched him, watching the dark wings shiver as he tried to keep them submissive.

"John. My John," the alpha gasped, trying to impale himself further on his mate's fingers. Only, every time he tried, his omega punished him by pulling them further out, grinning each time he did so. "Please!" he cried, straining against himself to stay down and to not just throw John on his back and climb on his cock himself.

"Shh, it's okay." John climbed over him and pinned his wrists, mantling over the alpha with wings high. "You're mine and I'm going to take care of you." He pushed in with one thrust, watching his mate's face.

It felt like he was over-straining his entire body from the way he tensed and threw his head back and arched his back. Despite the quality of his memory and the time he could have sworn he'd devoted to remembering this sensation, he never quite remembered. He never correctly anticipated the stretch or the burn, the _fullness_. It overwhelmed him, John's cock; and John himself overwhelmed him by the grip on his wrists and the solid, compact body, trying to hold his body to the sheets, trying to keep him from writhing to completion on his omega's cock.

John groaned and fucked him hard. He was wet himself as he moved inside his lover. He wondered if Sherlock would come just like this, with no touch to his cock. His wings beat a bit, keeping him poised over him. Sherlock was gorgeous anytime, but all the more so when he was helpless underneath John. Not that he minded being taken at all, but there was something delicious about seeing the alpha begging for his cock.

It was more than he could put into words how amazing John felt inside him. Especially when he wrapped his hands around Sherlock's hips and _pulled_, his omega's cock striking his prostate and causing him to cry out. And once his mate had found his prostate, he concentrated _all_ of his efforts on it until Sherlock was actually sobbing from the pleasure overload. In the midst of it all, he gasped, "Oh John. My John. I wish you could knot me. My mate. My perfect mate. My omega."

"I can't knot you, but I can damn sure bite," John growled, leaning down and taking the side of his throat in his teeth, biting down as he filled him. It wasn't a true bondbite, but it made Sherlock moan and come thickly between them as John continued to pound into him through his own orgasm.

The feeling of John's teeth embedding into his skin, of his mate coming inside him, cock hitting his prostate unerringly as they both came, made his vision white out. The fact that his omega kept thrusting through his own orgasm, even as Sherlock's tried to fade, only prolonged the alpha's until it was all just _too much_. "John! JohnJohnJohn!" he cried, hands flying to his mate's shoulders, clawing desperately, fingernails scoring the flesh underneath in such a way that would certainly leave bright red trails.

John growled again and grabbed his wrists, slowing his thrusts until his hips stilled, panting hotly between them. He licked the bite; an imitation of alpha behavior. His shoulders tingled where Sherlock had broken skin, but he ignored it and ran his hands slowly down his mate's arms.

"_John..._" Sherlock moaned brokenly, head still spinning from his orgasm and the utter arousal that had hit him at his mate's alpha-like reactions. It was something he'd never expected to enjoy. Then again, that was more because he'd never expected to enjoy another person. Fingers still wrapped around his wrists, John settled in over him, his weight a comfortable heaviness. Wings pressed down into his own, and though they'd faced each other like this before, it made his cock twitch at the way golden feathers forcibly pressed into his. He lifted his head to nip lazily at his bondbite on his omega's neck, sighing softly in pleasure before relaxing back on the sheets.

"Good," muttered John, nuzzling Sherlock. He was just glad that he'd found an alpha that enjoyed his more aggressive desires, if not outright encouraged them. Sherlock was utterly pliant under him and he felt himself growing soft. Sometimes he wished he could knot his alpha too. The man's come was sticky between them, but John dozed off anyway.

It was of no great source of amusement how quickly his omega always drifted off after he topped his alpha. It was almost as if his biology itself rejected their vigorous (depraved) sexual inclinations, rejecting an omega acting so against the secondgender's thousands of years of programming, and made him sleep after to regain his strength. Which was quite fine with Sherlock. Because on days when John topped, John topped _all day_. His cock twitched between them again but he was forced to inactivity by his mate's unconsciousness. He closed his eyes, and concentrated on anything that _wasn't_ the thought of how John was going to take him roughly from behind in a few hours when he woke.

**.oOo.**

John woke to his alpha's erection pressing against his stomach. He yawned and stretched. "Did you sleep at all?"

"I couldn't stop thinking about you mounting me," Sherlock rasped, cock twitching at the sudden intake of breath from his omega and the pupils of clear blue eyes dilating near-immediately. Between them, against his pelvis, he could feel John's cock hardening alongside his own. He wanted to get on his hands and knees. He wanted to present. He wanted his mate to take him again. And if John kept looking at him like _that_, he wasn't sure if he would even be able to make it to that point.

Leaning down, John kissed him, then knelt back and picked up the lube. "Show me what you want." Some might scoff at their role reversal, but John suspected more alphas liked it than they would admit. And more omegas. The big beautiful wings shimmered in the light as Sherlock started to roll over.

Even though they'd done this countless times, Sherlock could feel his cheeks heating as he drew his knees under him and lifted his hips. He could practically feel his mate's eyes on where his omega's come was slowly leaking from his hole and he spread his legs, moaning wantonly. "Mount me, John," he breathed, keeping his wings lowered and his back arched, held tilted to expose the fresh bite mark on his neck. "Fuck me like you mean it." He knew it was a goad. He knew his mate knew it was a goad. But the sudden and harsh way he was penetrated by his mate's cock, slightly dry but for the leftover ejaculate and whatever lubricant John may have spread over himself, told him that his mate and him were once again of similar minds.

John spread Sherlock's legs a little more to lower his hips. _There._ He brought his wings over his alpha, pressing him into the bed as he thrust. John held his hips tightly, giving short thrusts, wanting to drag this one out.

There were times John fucked him hard and fast to get them both off quickly. Like he had a few hours ago. And then there were the times when he liked to _torture_ him with the press of his weight over his back and gold wings over black, with the sharp bite of teeth along his neck and shoulders soothed over with licks and kisses, with the excruciatingly slow drag of his omega cock along his alpha's walls and prostate, all while ignoring the heavy, leaking persistence of Sherlock's cock where it hung between his thighs. When the alpha tried to grab at his cock, hands shoved his shoulders to the bed with his hands trapped under them, forcing him to just take in the pleasure at his omega's will, forcing his hips higher and the strikes to his prostate to be even more consistent. It was _heavenly_.

John was sweating as he kept up the steady pace. This was hard for him too. But those soft mewls of pleasure were so worth it. His alpha's legs trembled with the strain, wings rustling. He was getting close himself, again. "How do you want to come?"

His mind palace was awash in nothing but _JohnJohnJohn_ and his mate's every thrust were wiping each thought that his mind tried to start. "I want," he gasped, squeezing his eyes shut. "I want to come untouched," he finally managed.

"Again? Okay, love." John shifted his angle and sped up, pressing down on his lover, hitting that sweet spot. He shifted to holding him down with one hand, the other reaching back to finger himself. "I've got two fingers inside," he whispered.

"More, John," he demanded breathlessly, the alpha in him rising at the thought of his omega being penetrated. There was a low moan and blunt fingernails clawed into his shoulder, repayment of the damage he'd done to his mate's skin, even if it was subconsciously. If he imagined hard enough, he could almost feel John's nonexistent knot swelling in him, filling him. Like he would fill his mate later that day. Fill him and fill hm and fill him. There was a broken moan from his mate behind him, a stuttering of his hips, and he knew he'd obediently put in a third finger. It wasn't enough. He growled and shoved his hips back, demanding, snarling, "Four, John."

John took a breath and pushed in another finger, hips stilling as he groaned and tried to get used to the sensation. Sherlock pushed back, fucking himself on John's cock. Moaning, John knew he was losing control, wings shifting.

He had sensed the dominance slipping from his omega as his own rose. When John's wings shifted, out of the dominant mounting hold, the alpha surged forward inside him and, with the assistance of his wings, he toppled them backwards. John landed on his back behind and under him, Sherlock still pierced with his cock. He might be the one being penetrated, but control had been given back to him. To further prove it, he pulled his omega's fingers from his copiously leaking hole, stuffed them in his mouth, and shoved his own four fingers right inside his mate.

Shouting, John writhed underneath him, free hand squeezing his lover's hip, his wings and legs spread out, submissive, needing. "Sherlock," he moaned as he settled into the sensations.

The alpha could only moan around his mate's fingers as he fucked himself furiously on John's cock. His orgasm, having been looming at the base of his spine the entire time, sizzled along his nerves. The taste of slick on his tongue was making his eyes roll back in his head and his pleasure was a constant purr deep in his throat. As soon as he moved a hand to his cock to just _get him there_, John's hand snagged his own, pulling his one arm behind his back, and holding it there.

"You...said...come untouched," John panted, meeting his thrusts now as best he could. His mate's wings twitched with irritation but he managed to not get batted in the face. "Come, Sherlock."

A single hard thrust, the tip of his mate's cock slamming directly into his prostate, nearly knocked him off balance at the same time it made him see a constellation's worth of stars. He only barely managed to keep his fingers in the slick, tight heat, and he was immediately rewarded by John spasming around the digits as a warmth filled him, a high keening from behind him a welcome vocal announcement of his omega's orgasm. It seemed that that was all he needed because, a second later, he could feel his own passage convulse around his mate's cock as lightning erupted from his cock and his world went white.

John groaned, battered now by the wings as Sherlock tried to keep his balance. He rolled them over so the alpha was on his stomach, smoothing his fingers through the feathers before he finally caught his breath and could start preening. His lover's eyes were closed, but he knew he was awake, just sated, at least for the moment. It was late, he knew that. Maybe they should get something to eat. And they should clean up the nest before the kids were delivered back. He sighed and started to get up, kissing the back of his neck.

Despite his post-orgasmic lethargy, Sherlock was snake-quick in lurching at a weird angle for his escaping mate, wrapping deceptively strong arms around the soft waist and toppling his short omega back into their bed. "No," he said firmly, draping a wing across his mate and ignoring the sputter when John got a face-full of black feathers.

John rolled his eyes as he got the feathers out of his face. "We do need to clean up before the kids get back," he muttered, snuggling in close to his alpha. He draped a wing across him in return and stole a kiss. Everything could wait, he supposed.

**.oOo.**

"God, it _reeks_ in here!" Harry cried, shifting Harriet in her arms to dramatically wave her hand in front of her face before pinching her nose.

Hamish popped up over his aunt's shoulder, sniffing the air delicately. "It smells typical to me," he informed lightly, vaulting off his perch into the arms of his violently-blushing father, Johnny's head disappearing in a wing-hug, courtesy of his 'youngest' (as Harriet liked to claim because they saw her first). Harriet followed suit out of her aunt's arms, running into her brother's back as she clamoured for her mortified da's attention. Behind him, Sherlock glared at her as he wrapped up his family in his abnormally large wings, ignoring three simultaneous sputters as Harry grinned.

"Typical, hm?" Johnny blushed harder from where he'd pried his face free of his mate's restricting wing.

"Thanks for watching them, Harry," John got out. He pulled Hamish down into his arms and cuddled the boy.

"Yes," Sherlock added stiffly, still glaring at his mate's sister for her comment. "Thank you." She only laughed at him, blowing kisses to the fledglings as she trounced downstairs and out of the flat.

"Look what Aunt Harry helped me figure out!" Harriet cried, jumping out of his omega's arms and executing a lurching loop in the air. There was a feeling in his chest watching his child's proud accomplishment, and he couldn't help the smile that crossed his face. With the events of the last few years, he rather doubted that this particular smile could be helped if it didn't want to be. The smile he had for just his family.

John leaned over and kissed Sherlock's cheek as he caught his daughter, beaming himself. All in all, he couldn't have asked for a better life, or anything more.

FIN

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**Hope you enjoyed as much as the first one, please don't forget to review, come visit Mer (merindab) and Kat (themadkatter13-fanfiction) on our tumblrs, and if you want to see an AU/trope from us, please be sure to let us know!**


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